


A Day in a Swamp

by NightAshes



Series: October Prompts [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, I Can't Write Angst, Insects, everything always turn soft, remus gets contemplative in a swamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightAshes/pseuds/NightAshes
Summary: prompt: Creativity doesn’t understand what’s wrong with him. From the TSS Fanworks Collective prompt list.Remus enjoys nature. Most people don't understand why. He begins to question if nature falls under his or Roman's job and what that means for him.
Series: October Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952794
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	A Day in a Swamp

Remus lifts his arm from the murky water, salvinia clings to his skin. He raises his arm closer, twisting it this way and that to see the growth of the swamp from a different perspective. It’s an interesting plant but he wants to see more. Remus drops his arm back into the swamp, splashing himself and causing a smile to rise to his lips.

Remus loves to spend his days out in the wilds of the imagination. He loves nature. He loves the old growth trees, the murky swamps, the predators that stalk the lands, and the decay of what once was. Everyone is always shocked by this. They all like to romanticize nature. They think that the forests, the meadows, and everything else must belong to Roman. Just today someone said…

A water strider glides past him. Remus lowers himself deeper and deeper until the water tickles his nose. He imagines himself to be an alligator, hunting for prey. Perhaps, catching something will raise his mood. Will cement in his mind that there is nothing weird about his love for nature. He passes by a swamp lily, it’s white petals catch the light in just the right way. He wants to observe it closer. But the voice returns to his head. That’s not for him. That’s for Roman. Flowers belong to Roman.

His movements still at the thought. A ball of frustration sits rock hard in his stomach. What’s wrong with him? Why is he so upset over this? He doesn’t get upset. People get upset because of him. Not the other way around. 

But he is upset…

Remus revels in the joy of the wilds. Every time he enters them, they welcome him home with open arms. They show him their underbelly. They show him their decay and their deaths and it is good. They show him all the dark parts that Roman would consider too unpleasant, something befitting the grounds of an evil castle. And sometimes they show him other things. Like a swamp lily. 

Remus knows the wilds want his opinion on the flower. But why him? Shouldn’t they show it to Roman and not to him. Remus enjoys the parts of nature that are rotten. Not flowers. Why would he like flowers? Unless they are dead and decaying. Unless they are carnivorous. Unless they are dangerous.

Is there something wrong with him? Is he betraying his purpose to admit that he finds the flower appealing. A kind gift from his friend. 

The lily bends towards him. It has purple anthers. Perhaps he could show it to Virgil. Would Virgil find that weird? Would it reveal that there is something wrong with Remus? He feels like it would. Maybe it is like a disease. This appreciation for beauty. A festering pox that will spread and spread. And he’ll have to wear layers upon layers of clothes to hide it. But eventually it’ll spread too far and everyone will see the truth. It’ll be like a blistering rash that will cover his face and hands. And everyone will see and everyone will know.

Most people find it weird that he likes nature. But if he makes it clear. If he tells them that it is just the dark parts. The parts other people would see as disturbing or sad. Then they will understand. Then they will say that it makes sense. 

It’s like a test. As long as he makes it clear. As long as he explains. It’s the gross things he likes. The dark and depressing stuff. Then they will nod their heads. But if they were to think that he also liked the flowers. That he also found the birdsong calming. That he also appreciated the woodland creatures. What would they think then?

That he was broken. That he was wrong. Maybe they would think he was joking. Or that he was trying to step in on his brother’s territory. Even if he wasn’t it. Even if he insisted it wasn’t true. Because how could he explain it? How could he tell them that the flowers are also a part of his realm? They grow in the meadows but they also grow in the swamps. There is death in the meadows and there is beauty in the swamps. And would Roman ever see the swamp lily? Would he ever come to the swamps if it wasn’t for a quest? Would he stop amidst the murky waters and the swarms of mosquitoes to admire the flower? Maybe he would. But maybe he wouldn’t. 

There is a dragonfly. It zips between the trees. And Remus watches as it goes. Can he admire the dragonfly? Does it belong to him or to Roman? It is an insect and many people despise insects. Or are terrified of them. But there are some who find a dragonfly to be quite pretty. 

Why must he constantly question what is his and what isn’t?

Perhaps there is something wrong with him. The fact that he feels the need to prove that he can like what he likes is… frankly ridiculous. Logan was right. The world is grey. Not white and black like him and Roman. And maybe… maybe him and Roman aren’t white and black either. That’s it. There isn’t a hard and fast rule. There is no Roman’s nature or Remus’s nature. It belongs to both of them. And Remus can appreciate the beauty of the swamp lily.

Remus leans forward and bites the head off the flower. Munching it between his teeth, he smiles. Above a bird calls to his potential mates and Remus is happy. He knows the wilds and they know him. They know he appreciated their flower. And Remus knows another will grow. For nature is not white and black either. They are grey like him. They contain beauty and they contain ugliness. They are full of life and of death. And they know that there are those who appreciate them for all that they are and more.

Remus feels the mud suck at his shoes as he wades through the swamp. And he knows that the wilds appreciate him for all that he is and more.


End file.
